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AT THE FAR end of Scott’s Garden Center, amid the tall linden trees, their thick, green canopies sheltering them from the slow, steady fall of rain, Francesca watched Tommy spread the checkered blanket on the grass. Around them, dozens of candles burned, their yellow flames dancing in the soft wind. Potted flowers, pink, white, and yellow tulips, purple lavender, lilac, and red roses, circled them.
Tommy spread the food on the checkered blanket. There was fried chicken, potato salad, and coleslaw, and for dessert, a Black Forest cake. They were all of Francesca’s favorites. How Tommy knew didn’t matter to Francesca. The important thing was he’d done if for her.
Closing the distance between them, Francesca skimmed her fingers over Tommy’s cheek. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her unpainted face jumped out to him. Her eyes gleamed under the flicker of candlelight. It was such a beautiful face, Tommy thought.
“Thank you for all this. No one has ever done anything this thoughtful and romantic for me.” Francesca linked her hands behind Tommy’s neck.
“I’d do this for you every night forever if it makes you happy, but I have a confession to make.”
“What’s that?”
“Mrs. O made the food. She insisted on it.”
“Hmm, guilt food. She must have given you a lashing this afternoon. Spill.”
Tommy threw his head back in laughter. “She told me I’m to take care of you and never hurt you. That if I ever made you cry, she’d castrate me with her bare hands.”
“Ouch.”
“I have a feeling she’s had experience there. Then she fed me. Stuffed me like a pig heading for the spit all the while telling me she knows all the foods you liked, and I should stop by the kitchen to pick up the food basket before I picked you up.”
Francesca snorted a laugh. “I love that woman. Did she also say you weren’t to kiss me?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Then, you should.” Francesca leaned in, her mouth a whisper from his, Tommy felt her warm breath on his cheek, and his heart began to pound like a jackhammer. Still, Tommy pulled back. Francesca’s face warped into a mixture of anger, disappointment, and confusion. “Don’t you want to kiss me, Tommy?”
He slipped free from her chained arms and put distance between them. “I do, but...”
“There should be no, but. You should want to.” Francesca’s temper flared hot. “So everything you’ve ever said to me was complete bullshit.”
Tommy heard the tears in her voice. He’d hurt her, and it wasn’t what he intended. “I’m sorry, Francesca. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, reaching for her hand.
“Don’t touch me.” The pain of rejection was warring with cold, stony rage, and Francesca tore away and sprang toward the falling rain.
Tommy ran after her, his boots sinking into muddy puddles. “Please, Francesca, let me explain.” His hand gripped Francesca’s wrist when he caught up with her and spun her around so fast her body plowed into him.
“Let go of me, you brute.” Francesca tried to tear loose from Tommy’s hold, but he was too strong.
“It’s why I won’t kiss you.” Rain and tears mingle on Francesca’s face as her brow creased in confusion. “I’m not...”
“Interested.” Francesca finished. “Let go of me.” There was pain in the words, in the hazel eyes, and weakening, Tommy released his hold.
“You’re wrong about that.” Tommy ducked when the potted lily came at him like a bullet through the sheet of rain.
“Why would you lead me on this way?”
The unexpected begonia that followed nicked him on the forehead. “Jesus, Francesca, you almost got me full on the head.”
“Maybe this time I will.” Francesca reached for the closest thing and aimed the trowel straight for his head. A bolt of lightning lit the sky, and she willed it to strike the steel water can that followed and landed at his feet.
“Please stop, Francesca. Let me explain.” Tommy ducked to the right to avoid the clay pot that came next.
“I hope Mrs. O does end up castrating you.” She covered her face with her hands when the tears came faster. She hadn’t known a hurt like that before.
Francesca’s heart-wrenching tears ripped Tommy’s heart out. She looked so fragile, Tommy thought, and rushing to Francesca’s side, he chained arms around her. This time he didn’t let her get away.
“I never thought you of all people would hurt me.” Francesca sobbed, and even under the drenching rain, Tommy could see her tears.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s just ... Kissing you is not a simple kiss for me, Francesca. It means so much more to me, and I’m scared...”
“It won’t mean anything to me?” Francesca’s eyes kindled with shock when Tommy nodded. “Why would you think so lowly of me?”
Tommy brushed tears and rain from her face. “Look at me, Francesca. I am a brute. I’m not high-society like you. I dropped out of high school, and I’m sure as hell, not wealthy. You’re going to be taking over a multi-million dollar company. I’m a gardener, the son of a gardener. My hands are deep in manure laced soil every day.”
The wall of rain coming down on them, Francesca looked up to Tommy. “Christ! Do you believe me to be so shallow? That all I think about is money and status.”
“No, I don’t, but look me in the eyes and tell your father would approve of me.” Tommy’s heart ached at the words, but not more so than when Francesca remained silent. “What you see is what you get with me. We’re standing in a mud puddle, drenched in rain, the smell of fertilizer all around us, and you deserve so much more than this, Francesca.”
“Why are you deciding what I deserve?” Francesca swallowed rain. “You underestimate yourself. You’re honest, kind, and thoughtful. You do things just for me. I’ve been out with a lot of guys.”
“Are you bragging?” There was jealous anger in Tommy’s voice.
“As I was saying, I’ve been out with a lot of guys, blue-blooded, as you call them and none stack up to you. All they ever try to do is to charm their way into my pants. None comes close to being half the man you are. Jesus, we’re on our tenth date, and you’ve done everything perfectly by me, but not once have you tried to kiss me.”
Tommy cupped Francesca’s face in his hands. “Only because I...”
The pain of rejection went bone-deep. “Don’t touch me.”
“I love you, Francesca, and if I kiss you, I’ll have the taste of you in me. Once I do, I don’t think I can live without it. Kissing you means letting my feelings flow, and I’m scared you won’t feel the same. I’ve never felt like this, and I’m just so confused.”
Francesca’s flush of anger died away, and she rested her forehead against his. “I love you too, Tommy.”
“You do?”
Francesca held a steady gaze on Tommy as rain streamed down his face. “I do. I love you, Tommy. I have since the moment you gifted me the moon and the stars. It was my wish on the falling star you’d feel the same way for me.”
Tommy’s eyes mirrored the explosion of emotions in hers. “Mine too.”
Under the wall of rain, Tommy kissed Francesca with such tenderness it reached deep into her heart. Her lips tasted of rain. All Tommy wanted to do was absorb them until Francesca was a part of him. And he did. Tommy kissed Francesca long, passionately, until it soothed every ache, and filled his heart with a love he’d searched for so long.
